


Anywhere

by Sanguine_tenshi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Female Tony Stark, Harry Potter is Tony Stark, Master of Death Harry Potter, Reborn Harry Potter, author has no idea why she did this to herself, dysfunctional Stark family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22693528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanguine_tenshi/pseuds/Sanguine_tenshi
Summary: She asks for one thing. Parents that will live through her childhood. It isn’t quite what she imagined, they are cold and distant and don’t really know how to act towards her. But they love her, and they are there. That is all that she wanted, all she asked for. But then she turns eighteen and her childhood is officially over.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Female Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 405





	1. Where to?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! IDK, guys.

It is a chilly autumn day. Aunt Petunia says it is going to rain, so Dudley needs to take his umbrella to school. She doesn’t even get a glance. Dudley is excited, first day of school, big day, he forgets, aunt Petunia doesn’t. When she leaves them at school Dudley gets a big kiss on the cheek and an umbrella. She is forgotten. It starts to rain during their third class and only get worse as the day progresses.

Aunt Petunia is there at the end of the day, a big red umbrella over her head and a giant smile on her face. Dudley runs to her, forgetting to open his umbrella. He crashes around her middle, swaying aunt Petunia on her feet, but she doesn’t mind. Excited chatter fills the air as he tells his mum about his day, school, classes, new friends. Aunt Petunia laughs and smiles softly as she opens the car doors and fastens Dudley in his seat. They drive off slowly, behind everyone else. She is forgotten.

She stands there. Oversized shirt damp and hanging off her thin shoulders and old sneakers already wet. She clutches her notebook closely to herself until the covers are all crinkled. Her glasses are foggy and her hair is falling in her face. She is forgotten and she has no umbrella.

.

Hermione’s parents are nice. They are always smiling and seem overly optimistic. She watches Hermione light up at the sight of them. She runs to them, forgetting everything around herself. She jumps at her dad. He catches her and spins her around as all three laugh. She stands and watches. It is a heart-warming scene. She feels cold.

Uncle Vernon is there too, a frown on his face. His mustache seem bushier than ever before, like one of Mrs. Figg’s cats. He grunts at her in greeting before throwing her suitcase into the car. She glances once more at Hermione. A large smile is stretched over her face as she tells her parents about her year, school, classes, new friends.

Hermione catches her eye and waves with a large smile. She turns to her parents for just a moment. Both adults look at her and smile softly. She isn’t so cold anymore.

.

Ron’s family is loud. They are all over the place. Constantly in motion, constantly chatting. She sits in her little corner and watches. She watches Mrs. Weasley walk through her kitchen like a storm, preparing all kinds of food. Food that doesn’t taste any better than regular food, but Mrs. Weasley lights up so much when they all eat that the food tasted like Heaven to her. Mr. Weasley is reading a newspaper a giant smile on his face as he talks to his wife.

Ron and Ginny are arguing about something or other. They are loud and aggressive, but they are smiling, she can see it in their eyes. Mrs. Weasley yells at them from the kitchen. They continue their argument in lower tones. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. And as Forge and Gred grab her and pull her from her little corner to their room for some plotting, she feels warm.

.

Nevil’s parents are lost to the world. They simply do not react to anything. They walk through the room like zombies, their faces set in the same expression. She watches Nevil go to his dad. He tells him about his year, school, classes, friends. His dad doesn’t react, not to his words, not to his presence. He just stares at the same spot, an empty look to his eyes. Nevil seems to have given up.

His face falls and he sadly tells his dad he loves and misses him. Brown eyes are suddenly clear and focused. The man smiles at his son and she feels something break deep down. Nevil is staring. It is just a moment of clarity. Brown eyes look like they are made of glass again. But Nevil looks like he might just cry right then and there. His smile is wide, but his eyes are sad, as he tells his dad he will visit soon again.

Their roles could have been easily reversed, she realizes. Just one different decision, and she could have been here telling the shell of her dad about her life. And she isn’t sure if it would be the worse option.

.

“We love you so much sweetheart. So, so much.” Her mother says, her voice breaking. “We are so proud of you, we always have been.” She feels like she is going to break. “We will be there with you no matter what.” They both smile down at her. Her heart stops for just a second and she isn’t sure what to do.

She just nods, afraid she might break down if she speaks. There is a need to stay right here, with her parents, but she cannot. There is a war. She needs to finish it. The stone slips from her fingers. Her parents disappear and she feels like screaming. She wants to cry and beg them to stay.

Instead she walks forward.

.

“Where to Master?” Death asks her. She thinks for just a moment.

“Anywhere.” is her answer. “I just want parents that will be alive throughout my childhood.” A moment passes and Death just nods at her request. She takes the offered hand and then there is only darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been rattling in my head for a while now. I just didn’t think it would have such a sad beginning.


	2. Baby steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!

There is a voice. It is male, deep. She feels safe when she hears it. Familiar, somehow, but she isn’t sure from where. She opens her eyes to look at him, but her vision is blurry, eyes unfocused. She can barely recognize a face, only his eyes are distinguishable from the rest of the black and brown blob. She tries to say something, to ask about the blurriness but all that comes out is a babble, a mixture of spit and noises. Her tongue gets in the way.

There is a deep chuckle at her noises. Another blur is coming closer to her and she just barely recognizes it as a hand. She reaches for it, grabs a finger. It is so big in both her hands. Her fingers don’t work quite right but she can still grip the giant digit. The skin is rough. There is a squish bump there. As she squeezes it in her curiosity the figure hisses in pain as immediately stops. She recognizes it as a burn blister

The figure talks at her again, the words escape her, but she can hear the warmth and fondness in his voice as he talks. It is her dad, she finally recognizes. He’s not so blurry anymore and she can recognize an outline of a smile. A wide grin pulls at her cheeks and she babbles something at him. Her tongue still gets in the way, but her tone is genuinely happy and dad seems to catch her meaning anyway. His smile is wider as he answers her babble.

.

She’s sitting in a living room. It is huge, but she might just be too small for the world still. The floor is made of shiny rich wood and the white rug under her is big and fluffy. Things are no longer blurry and she is thankful. There is a woman, not her mom, a nanny, she crouches two feet away from her. Her hands are extended and she asks her to walk to her. She doesn’t trust this person, she’s not mom and she’s not dad. The woman is young, collage age possibly. Blonde hair, tanned skin, a large smile. She is always smiling. It is wide and happy and so very fake.

“Annamarie.” the women calls to her, but is ignored. Instead she looks to the other side of the room, where her dad sits.

She tries to call for him, but her tongue still refuses to listen to reason, only the A is recognizable in the whole mess. Her dad still catches it and looks to her. She does one of those wide toothless baby smiles and combines it with one of the many baby noises she can now make. Dad’s lips twitch ever so slightly before he goes back to his work. Her smile falls. She calls again, but he doesn’t look again. The nanny says something but she cannot be bothered to listen.

She noticed how awkward her dad is around her. His movements are blocky and overexaggerated. He holds her like he is afraid of breaking her, or perhaps like she is going to spontaneously combust on him. She isn’t sure. He loves her, she knows that, but he doesn’t know how to act around her. Dad isn’t someone to make baby noises or play peek a boo. They are in the same boat, she thinks. He doesn’t know how to act around kids and she doesn’t know how to act around parents. Still she wants daddy time, dammit.

She can’t stand up on her own yet, her legs are too weak. She turns to the table behind her, wiggles a little until she can grab the edge. She pulls. It is as if this is the hardest thing she has ever done. It goes slowly, her bum is heavier than it looks. She stumbles, her legs aren’t used to this position, to this weight but she pushes herself. And then she is standing. The nanny babbles something encouraging at her.

She can finally see the top of the table. There is a pretty glass vase there with big red flowers. It isn’t something her father would decorate with. Her mother on the other hand. The nanny calls to her again, but she looks to her dad. Did the room get bigger while she wasn’t looking? Rooms would sometimes do that at Hogwarts. She cannot cross that distance all on her own, so she devises a battle plan, a route. The couch is the closest thing to her. She can follow it to a side table, after the side table there is a low bookshelf she can grab. Then comes the hardest part of her route the big empty space between the book shelf and the table. A chair is pulled out slightly so the dangerous part is slightly shorter. If she makes it she can lean on the table leg and then reach for her father.

She makes it to the side table without a problem, the nanny still encourages her. Turning around the side table is hard and she stumbles a few times but makes it to the bookshelf without falling. The biggest challenge is in front of her now. She will have to cross it quickly, both to keep her balance and because the nanny will try to stop her, she knows it. Her first step is shaky, but as she gains speed it seems easier. She isn’t looking where she is going. She crashes into dad’s leg. Instead of falling on her but she latches onto the fabric and doesn’t let go.

When she looks up dad’s eyes are wide and full of surprise. She coos up at him and makes grabby hands. Shock is replaced with a large grin and she is picked up. “That’s my girl.” he praises. It should be small, insignificant, she just walked, it was nothing special. She may have started a month before everyone, but it is unimportant. Still there is a warmth curling in her chest. She gurgles at her dad happily.

“Mr. Stark.” the nanny is ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are going to be short. They will help establish Harley’s (or Annamarie’s) relationship with her parents which will be important in the future, I’m sure some of you can guess why. They are going to be just snippets, but hopefully I will be able to update often. See ya in the next one.


	3. Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!

Dad’s workshop is, in short, a complete and utter mess. Equipment is everywhere, tools of all kinds are on the floor, there are all kinds of smudges everywhere, the floor, the walls and the ceiling. A wrench is jammed into the wall all the way in, only the tail end of it can be seen. She would have asked about it but her tongue is still outside of her control.

The nanny had been fired. Both mommy and daddy saw no reason to keep paying her if their daughter refused to be near the woman. She was sure they were just getting tiered of her screaming tantrums. Instead they hired a butler. A pleasant middle-aged man with funny mustache. He was polite and professional. He took care of her needs but generally left her on her own. The nanny had been overbearing and wished to force some form of positive relationship with her. Needless to say, she preferred the butler.

Since dad stayed at home most of the day mom told him he should watch over their daughter. So here she was, sitting on dad’s workbench and listening to his explanation on what the thing he was currently working on should be doing and why it wasn’t. She quite liked it. He didn’t treat her like a baby, more from his own inability to do so than anything else, but she didn’t care about the reason. He talked to her like he would to any of his colleagues. He had a tendency to start mumbling long words she didn’t understand, but at those times she would angrily yell at him, a single high pitched ‘a’.

He would then chuckle, apologies and explain again in simpler terms that were more her level. She loved how his eyes would sparkle every time she made a pleased gurgle when she understood what he was teaching her. She was more of a sound board than anything else but it wasn’t like she was able to give any input.

He was currently explaining to her one of the problems the device in front of him had, something about wires and poles and electricity and other things that didn’t seem like they connected in any way at all. He was frustrated, it was more of a rant honestly. Then he suddenly stopped and looked at her. “That’s it! That’s the problem!” He kissed her forehead and got back to work. The device gave a beep. Her father let out an excited yell before turning to her and lifting her up in the air.

She gave a squeal as he spun in a circle before bringing her in front of his face. “It works! It works, baby!” He said delight clear in his voice before rubbing their cheeks together. She squealed as his rough beard rubbed against her sensitive cheek.

“Dada!” she yelled in offense. Her father froze. She was looking at dad’s eyes again. He looked serious and for a moment she was afraid she did something wrong but then he let out a happy laugh.

“My baby spoke her first word,” his voice was serene. “We have to celebrate this.” He announced before leaving the workshop and yelling for the butler. The little electronic device he had been working on the whole day lay forgotten.

.

The first time she meets Obadiah Stane he reminds he of a goblin. Not in looks, no. Stane is a good-looking man by all accounts if a bit round around the middle, but the navy suit hides that nicely. He has icy blue eyes that seem to always be calculating the value of everything and everyone around him and that is what brings a goblin to mind when she looks at him. He is the businessman to her father’s inventor.

Her dad is smart and charismatic, but he has absolutely no knowledge about running a company. Stock market, employs, advertisement, spreading the company’s influence? No clue. That is where Stane comes in. He runs the company while her father keeps them ahead of the competition.

As Stane walks into dad’s workshop he spares her only a glance before speaking to her father. Dad continues to work on his news electronic thingamabob as he talks to Stane. Stane talks about the market, and the competition, and about how they are starting to catch up. He demands a new invention from her father by the end of the month. The argument continues from there. Her father says you can’t rush such things and Stane blames her. He doesn’t say it outright, but he alludes to it in many, many confusing words.

This doesn’t endear the man to her. The same can be said for the father as the man has stopped what he is doing to glare at Stane. The argument finishes when dad says that he is working on something and that it should be done soon. Stane gives a reluctant nod and dad goes back to work.

Icy eyes turn to her then and Stane gives a flinch of surprise. She knows why. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror the other day. Her baby blue eyes have faded to her old green over the last few months. It is that same haunting green of her past life. The color of Avada Kedavra. The color of death, she finds it appropriate. Still it isn’t a pleasant color. With one last glance Stane is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. I’ll try to get Mrs. Stark next chapter. I haven’t proofread this chapter so please excuse any mistakes, I’ll get to it at some point. Also, someone asked what Harley’s name is now, it’s Annamarie Stark. Till next time.


End file.
